


Eclipse

by wastefulreverie



Series: PhannieMay Shots 2018 [4]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Creepy, Death, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Jazz is such a good sister, Lichtenberg Scar, Lunar Eclipse, Scar Headcanon, corpse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastefulreverie/pseuds/wastefulreverie
Summary: Danny's excitement for the lunar eclipse deteriorated quicker than his body gave into the nasty process of decomposition.





	Eclipse

Sunlight peered through the windows at FentonWorks, illuminating the inside of the odd house with temperate normalcy. Propping his elbows on the kitchen table, Danny placed down his spoon and faced his sister, opposite them. Their parents had already dismissed themselves to the basement for the day, or at least until lunch.

“So,” Danny started, raising an eyebrow, “why aren't you coming to see the lunar eclipse with us, Jazz? What's the deal? I thought we already agreed we'd meet at the top of Amity Overlook tonight for the best view.” He leaned back in his chair, “I mean, it's the not like it's the _coolest_ astronomical event this year!”

Jazz shrugged and took a bite of her cereal. “I don't know Danny...” she said. “I just feel like I've been overstepping my role as your sister with your friends. Ever since I found out your secret, it's been the four of us. Don't get me wrong, I like helping you guys and doing things, I just feel that it'd be better for all of us if I wasn't constantly involved. After all, they're your best friends, and I'm your big sister.”

“Well,” Danny said, “if you put it that way, it makes sense. But I don't really mind hanging out with you, and neither do Sam and Tucker. If we had a problem, we'd make it clear.”

“Thanks Danny,” Jazz smiled, “but you really do need time with Sam and Tuck alone. I'll probably just watch the eclipse from the roof of the Ops Center with Mom and Dad, like we did that one year. Remember?”

“Oh yeah...” Danny said, recalling the memory. “That was in like what, third grade? So long ago.... I'd looked forward to it for weeks and when Mom almost didn't let us stay up late to see it, I was devastated, but then she changed her mind and we got to watch the whole thing.”

Jazz smiled, “Wasn't that the time Dad brought the portable ectocooker and we made smores on the roof?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I remember we were so paranoid they were gonna come to life again, but they didn't, fortunately. And then we all just stared up at the sky and watched the moon turn red.”

“Yeah, I remember being mostly unimpressed, but you wouldn't stop talking about it for days, and how you hoped one day you'd see the eclipse from the moon instead....” Jazz trailed off.

“Yeah,” Danny said, looking down at his hands. “Y'know, with my grades, I'll probably never get to be an astronaut. But, I'm still hopeful I can get to space on my own and just... lose myself in the stars for a little bit. It shouldn't be that hard; I've flown to space before, but only to fight Technus... but that doesn't mean I can't again.”

Jazz soothingly put a hand on Danny's shoulder, “I'm glad, with everything that's happened, you're still able to follow your dreams, Danny.”

“Me too.”

* * *

 In the hours leading up to the eclipse, Danny took the scarce opportunity to take a break from fighting ghosts; struggling through endless homework; and interacting with well-meaning, yet overbearing family and friends. His life (half-life, technically) just ran non-stop, one obstacle after the other, and to tell the truth, sometimes a guy just needed time to relax.

He spent the afternoon playing Doom on his computer. Normally he'd play multi-player with Sam and Tucker, but both of them were busy (Sam's parents were forcing her to learn French, and Tucker was grounded after he failed his chemistry exam). It was about seven o'clock before he finally turned off his computer and turned to go downstairs to see what there was for dinner. He stopped before he made it out of the door.

With his hand already clasped around the door-handle, Danny emitted a startled cry and nearly fell backwards in surprise.

The skin on his hand and arm was covered in burns. From what he could see, his skin was peppered with nasty red, brown, and black blisters, red discoloration, and slight bloating. The burns had to be at least second degree, possibly even third degree, yet they didn't feel painful at all, not even when he applied pressure on the wounds.

Danny started to panic, because these injuries had appeared seemingly from nowhere, and they didn't even hurt. What the _hell_ was going on?

He backed away from the door slowly, gluing his eyes to the burned flesh that wrapped around his arm. There had to be an explanation for this, whatever was happening. He turned to look at the mirror hanging above his dresser, and that was a mistake.

For one, the burns didn't just cover his arms. The gruesome marks of expired skin mottled his entire face and neck... disappearing beneath his shirt. The charring was even worse around his eye sockets, creating two parallel black ovals that accented his ghastly appearance. At this revelation, Danny let his jaw drop and watched as the blisters contorted and stretched along with the muscles in his face.

Heart throbbing with uncertain horror, he slowly reached down and pulled his shirt up, so he could see the condition of his chest. The skin was the same there too, except the pattern of the burning ran outwards from his heart, where there was a tangle of hardly decipherable scarring in the shape of tree branches.

Nearly instantaneously, Danny recognized those red scars clutching his heart as Lichtenberg figures, the signature mark of being struck by lightning. His mind struggled to make sense of that, because if those were Lichtenberg figures, and his body was burned to hell....

That didn't quite add up. After all, it wasn't like he had been electrocuted... or had he? He finally registered an almost plausible explanation.

If this was from the portal, could this... be the aftermath of the accident? It would make sense why his flesh was in unpleasant ribbons of blisters. But why would it be showing up now? Did this mean that his human half was finally dying? Were the consequences of being half-ghost finally catching up to him, leaving nothing but a rotting corpse for his family to discover?

No. No, he couldn't think that. This couldn't be his death. Not after everything he'd been through.

He couldn't just sit around and watch his body slowly deteriorate in the mirror he had to do something. So with an uncertain resolution, he decided to see what would happen to his crippled body once he turned into Phantom. Maybe the burns would transfer over to his ghost half, or maybe they would stay locked inside his human half. Danny tried not to focus too hard on what he was about to do, because he wasn't even sure that in his current state that if he transformed, that he would be able to return to human. But you don't find out until it happens right?

Whatever happened, Danny prayed it was curable.

So with a barely audible “going ghost”, Danny watched in the mirror as the rings expanded over his form, changing his clothes not into a _black_ jumpsuit, but a _white_ one. With a strangled choke, he noticed that it hung on his body distinctly looser than it had the day of the accident, the last time he'd donned the white material before it was irreversibly altered. When the transformation rings reached the crown of his head, he noticed with confusion that his hair remained black, and while his eyes were glowing a dull green, they were slowly fading into blue.

It was his ghost. Not Phantom, but what the ghost of Danny Fenton should _really_ look like. He mulled that realization over before deciding that it wouldn't do him any good dwelling on it. Right now he needed to find out what was happening to him, and see if it was curable... before it was too late.

* * *

There was something different with the Ghost Zone. He didn't know if it was just him, or if was affecting the entire dimension, but whatever it was, Danny didn't like it. Every just felt... vacant, well, more so than usual.

Even though his ghost form appeared crippled and mimicked his human appearance rather than his normal ghostly persona, he was still able to retain all his powers perfectly. So with no preamble, Danny soared through the Ghost Zone, trying to remember the way to Clockwork's tower (his part of the Ghost Zone sometimes shifted, making it difficult to recall where he was) to hopefully find some answers. But still, after about twenty minutes of aimlessly flying around, he was at a loss. If Clockwork didn't want to be found, then damn him. He'd go to the Far Frozen instead; they always aided him there (even if they did praise him as some sort of ghostly pseudo-God, which always made him uncomfortable).

So Danny collected his bearings, and determined which way to fly to be on the path to the Far Frozen, when a chill traveled down his spine, signaling his ghost sense. Great, one of his enemies seeing him in this condition was _exactly_ what he needed right now.

He spun on instinct, searching for whoever triggered his sense, and soon enough, his eyes found the slowly approaching form of-

“Sidney Poindexter?” Danny asked, out loud. Poindexter flinched upon hearing his name, and without a ghost sense of his own, he was unable to predict the arrival of another specter, thus making his reaction more shaken than Danny's.

“Golly!” he cried, “Who are you, p-punk? Why aren't you in your lair, like everyone else?” He quickly reached a hand to his neck nervously, and held it there, securely. “I – I demand to know who you are,” he threatened, timidly.

“I... it's _me_ , Poindexter,” Danny said, explaining. “Phantom? _Danny_ Phantom. I don't know what's wrong with me, so I came here... for some answers.”

“You mean, you're... and-” he gave a sigh of exasperation, “of course _you_ wouldn't know, halfa. Most of us here, we just know 'cause we have all the jets from instinct or something. But... I guess I'll clue you in, then you can skedaddle.”

“Wait,” Danny said, “so you know what's wrong with me? Is it why you said everyone else is in their lairs?”

“Precisely,” Poindexter confirmed. “What's happening to you, and to all of us, is an effect of the eclipse. Whenever the sun and moon are hidden from the sky, the nature of our deaths are shown. I – I suppose you were... electrocuted,” he gestured to the state of Danny's burned flesh, which had grown more charred and blackened over time. “And for me, it's-” he lowered his hand from his neck, revealing an angry red slice, contrasting with his monochrome image. The cut itself was no doubt slow and deliberate, and definitely... fatal. “-my throat.”

“So,” Danny said, trying to avoid gawking at Poindexter's neck (trying not to remember exactly _how_ Poindexter had reached his demise), “during every eclipse... we just, look like we did when we died?” he said the last word uncomfortably. “But then, we go back to normal, afterwards, right?”

“Yep, you got it, Clyde,” Poindexter said. “Most everyone doesn't want anyone peeping on them, cause for most, death is personal. But I suppose, you already knew my story... mostly everyone does. It's why I'm too scared to go back to my place, because... I can't let the echoes of my classmates see me like this again,” he confessed, gazing down at the swirling abyss below.

“Oh,” Danny said, “I... get it. I wouldn't want anyone to see me like this, either. That's why I was so worried; I was afraid I'd have to face my friends like this, or that I'd be stuck forever.”

“I dig what you mean,” Poindexter nodded. “I suppose, if I didn't know either, I'd be pretty darn miffed.”

Danny looked down at his grossly mutilated hands under his black gloves and muttered, “Yeah.”

* * *

For the most part, Danny managed to hold himself together in front of Poindexter, but when he returned to the solitude of his room, he began to weep. It just... wasn't fair. He'd come to terms with being half-ghost a while ago, but this was just another painful... reminder that even though he was still partially alive, a part of him had died in that portal. He'd been fried to the core and burned to a crisp, and if it hadn't been for the ectoplasm that had bonded to his DNA... he would've looked like how he appeared now. Just a lot more _deader_. His two best friends would have had to drag his smoking, charred corpse out of the portal and present him to his horrified, sobbing parents.

What did he _ever_ do to deserve this? Why did he have to pay such a demanding price for one _very_ stupid, teenage mistake? Why did he have to... why did he have to face his own decaying face in the mirror?

But deep down, he knew the answer. He could blame this on some higher power, such as fate, but that didn't change the fact that he did this to _himself_.

His ghost half was a part of him now. And the price for his powers, the price for his extension of fate, was agonizing death. This is what he looked like when he was touched by the reaper. This is what he looked like beneath both Fenton and Phantom.

And he hated it so, _so_ much.

It had to be around midnight when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. From the weight and rhythm of the steps, he automatically knew it was Jazz. Danny assumed she was just going to her room, probably to get a sweater or something; after all, it was cold on top of the Ops Center. He curled up in a ball on top of his comforter, too depressed to bother getting in the sheets. In his head, he was just counting the hours until his torment was stripped from him.

Then, without any warning, his bedroom door opened.

“Danny are you in here? Sam and Tucker said you bailed, and I was wondering...” she trailed off, when she saw the frail form of her brother, his back, facing her. She noted that something was wrong immediately. He was wearing his HAZMAT suit, his _original_ one. The same suit that was destroyed in the accident....

“Go away, Jazz,” he said hoarsely, voice cracking as if he'd been crying. “I don't look... okay right now. You shouldn't see me.”

“What are you talking about?” Jazz inquired, cautiously. “Why are you wearing-”

“ _Leave_ ,” he rasped, with more force. “Please. I'm okay. Just _get out_ of my room.”

That's when she knew something was _really_ wrong. Disobeying his pleads, Jazz rushed forward and found herself looking at her brother's face, and fell backwards with a sudden shriek of surprise. The burns were so black on his skin it was hard to distinguish any of his defining features. Though, she could see streaks of tears trailing down his cheeks, and his miserable expression.

A look of concern and alarm possessed Jazz. “Danny, wha-”

“It's temporary,” he cut her off. “The eclipse... makes ghosts look like they did when they died. It doesn't hurt. And, I – I-” he choked, unable to manage any more words. He reached out to grab Jazz's hand, like it was the only tangible thing in the world.

His voice came out in a whisper, “I never realized that what it did to me, was ever this bad.”

Jazz continued to stare at her brother's mutilated, electrocuted body, and tentatively wrapped her arms around his shoulder. She seemed collectively uneasy, but who in their right mind would be comfortable with hugging the splitting image of their brother's corpse? Eventually, she began to tremble, and it took Danny a moment to realize that she was crying as well....

In the minutes they spent clinging to each other, under the darkness of the blood-red moon, they lingered in silence. She didn't have to say anything; her sympathetic embrace spoke more than anything she could've said.

 


End file.
